Saints Go Marching
by thylovelyengel
Summary: based on Tokio Hotel, told in the pov of God, two angels, one with an ultimate desire...read to understand


**Disclaimer: I only own the story, not tokio hotel. this never actually happened (though it would be cool) to SkyeGavin, get off my case, this is the third time i got rid of this story ITS NOT REAL HENCE FANFICTION**

The time is close to midnight in Munich, Germany. In a hotel room, the brothers Kaulitz just arrive after a long day of recording. The elder brother drops his bag on the left bed, jumping slightly and rolling onto a side. Some of his belongings slide out like his phone and a book that he's been reading, nothing too complex but it passes the time when waiting in an airport or doing nothing during breaks. Nothing relaxes the mind better than a good read. The dreadlocked teen sits down at the edge of the bed exhaling; it had been a long day. He scratches his back coolly like he's been doing all day.

Following close behind is his twin, ten minutes his junior. Taking off his jacket, he stretches like a cat preparing to curl up comfortably in a ball. The tight T-shirt and matching pants are a deathly black that compliments his signature make up and gravity defying hair. Like his brother, he scratches his back and struggles to reach a spot where he knows he won't be able to get.

The previously resting twin gets up from the bed and helps him out, making the other jump slightly out of surprise. A smug grin creeps on the darkened twins face as pleasure strikes his spine. His brother chuckles under his breath as he continues to rub the frail boy's back. The darkened twin turns to face his masseuse and flashes him a smile, revealing a set of pearl white ivories. He gravitates towards his chest, pulling him into a bear hug in which the other responds willingly back. They are good brothers. A special bond is between them that is stronger than any other known.

And now they speak; the younger goes first.

"Tomi, can I take this off now?" he asks tugging at the back of his skin tight clothing, "It's starting to bug me."

"Go ahead Bill, I'm gonna," Tom replies.

"Thank goodness!" Bill says in a loud girly voice. Just as he's about to strip, he is held up by his brother.

"Wait a second!" he shouts throwing his hand out. Bill rolls his eyes and places his hand on his hips.

"What?" he scowls.

"We have to lock up," Tom says and rushes to the window, pulling the curtains closed.

Bill rolls his eyes again, loathing the chore that Tom makes him do constantly.

"You know I don't know why you make me do this."

"Do you want to get caught?"

"No. But do we have to go through so many precautions?"

"Yes, you idiot! Imagine all the buzz and experiments they would do to us; they might even separate us."

"No!" Bill shutters at the thought of never being able to see his big brother ever again, even lets a tear roll down the side of his face. Quickly he wipes it away to hide it from Tom.

"The door is locked and I check for cameras…Now?"

"Alright, now."

In a matter of a second, Bill's shirt is removed as well as Tom's extra large sweatshirt and undershirt. They both reveal bare chests, one with tattoos and the other with muscle, along with two pairs of feathery white blades from their backs. The twins sigh as they release their biggest and deepest secret inside their room.

Tom thrusts his head back in rejoice and freedom; he's never felt so alive. All of the sudden, he feels a sudden breeze flowing through his dreads.

"Bill what did I tell you about flapping indoors?" he shoots at his brother, more in the moment than he is.

He looks back at Tom, his cheeks are a rosy red with embarrassment, "Oh sorry Tomi. By the way…umm…what about the contacts?" Tom nods his head, realizing he forgot about those. He wore the contacts for so long, most of the time he forgets about them.

Bill reaches for his jacket to pull out a contact case, white and turquoise, and unscrews the lids, placing them on the night stand. He sits on the bed, having his right wing knock over the telephone. Clumsily, he picks it up with his brother laughing away at him. Bill gives him a glare to shut up and continues to pick at his eye. With one contact out, he pulls out the other. As he rises, he reveals his true eye color. To the world, the twins have chocolate brown eyes, but reality shows them to have golden orbs engraved in marble with a hint of onyx. Contacts are the only solution to hide the beautiful oddity, and Bill did not like them.

"They hurt," he whines, "But now it's much better."

"True that," replies his twin.

They go about in the room as if nothing is different. Tom is on his bed watching T.V. with the remote clicking away in his hand. Bill wanders around, getting ready for bed. He bends down to put away his clothes in his suitcase, which is conveniently near the window. Checking over his shoulder to make sure Tom isn't watching he moves a part of the curtain to get a glimpse of the night life outside the window. Street lights blaze on with cars rapidly moving past them. Bill could see kids their age waltzing about on the sidewalks in groups of eight to ten, laughing and enjoying one another. They are enjoying a _normal _life. He closes the curtain; he can't watch any more.

"Turning in?" Tom asks.

"Yeah." He looks back down at the suitcase defeated in a way.

Tom notices. "Something's wrong Bill. I can tell."

"You can tell everything."

"Well not all the time, like now for instance. What's on your mind, Billa?"

Bill rose from the floor and placed himself next to his brother.

"Let me ask you something," he starts off, "Do you ever get tired of being an angel?"

Tom's gilded eyes turned into a confused glance, "No, never. It's a gift I'm willing to uphold."

"I figured you'd say that," Bill whispers turning his head away, "See, for a while I've had this idea. A wish really that I…" He sheepishly squirms in his seat.

"Out with it Bill."

"That I was never an angel at all." Bill covers his mouth trying to retrieve those accursed words he just said back. But the damage is done, and Tom sits up all the way up in total shock.

"Bill!" he says trying to reassure him, "w-why? How come?"

"Tom just look at us!" the younger twin cries, "We have freaking wings coming out of our back. Not only do they itch like hell under fabric, but there's no way of removing them or hiding them completely. Clothes work, but it's only a matter of time before that's not gonna work anymore. And our eyes, oh our eyes! They're gold! Not a normal brown or green or blue, gold! Name another person besides me with those colored eyes." There is silence for a brief thinking and breathing period. "That's what I thought, no one."

"Bill we're…"

"Different, blessed, worthy, I know! But you know what I wanna be? Normal! I want to be a normal teenager, none of these feathers or flying or having to obey everything the big man says. I don't want to do this anymore!" Bill's face is in his palms now, sobbing heavily. Tom sits there unable to speak but pulls the troubled boy close to him. He feels tears dripping down on his shoulder, just as he wanted Bill to do.

"Bill," Tom whispers in his ear, "I'm glad you told me this." He looked up letting out a confused moan. "You'll understand everything better in the morning. I want you to go to sleep. Understand?" Bill shakes his head 'yes' and leans back into Tom's muscle cushioned chest. He feels his brother rocking him slowly back and forth and singing a German lullaby their mother used to sing to them as children. Slowly but surely, Bill's eyes begin to close, not knowing the bewilderment of the next day.

He wakes up the next morning discovering his contact case missing. He is so going to kill Tom. His hair is an utter mess and his face glistens with the early morning glow.

"Tom!" he shouts not caring if he woke his brother up, "I swear if you took my case again, I'm…" He stops in front of the closet mirror and stares. Something is different he thinks, for what he sees is the reflection of a normal man, no wings or anything. He touches the fine sheet of glass in amazement, his eyes were actually brown, a deep burgundy almost. Bill can't believe what he is seeing right now. He wonders if the same thing happened to Tom.

"Tom, where are you! Come quick!" Of course Tom happens to be right behind Bill, wingless and with similar stained eyes. "Surprised?"

"Uh yeah!" Bill shrieks, "What the heck happened last night?"

"Well, I made a few calls, pulled a few strings, nothing that you should concern you."

"But why?"

"Because I felt the same way you did last night. The wings were starting to get on my nerves too, but I didn't have the guts to tell you. I was afraid that you were still happy with being an angel and didn't want to change."

"No way! I felt the same about you. Last night I just snapped."

"Well you snapped at the perfect time. Bill…we're free." The words took a minute to settle in. Freedom. His forearm tattoo is true now. They were free men the moment their wings dropped off of their backs.

Bill can't contain himself as he frolics around the room in a fit of joy. Tom genuinely does not take part and just watches. Bill stops and faces the collected twin, panting and smiling. He skips over to him and jumps into him with an embracing hug.

"Thank you Tomi!" says the excited twin.

"No thank you Billa," he says right back, "C'mon we gotta get to the studio." The brothers leave the room and lock the door behind them.

I lost a pair of good guardians, but they deserve to be happy. They've done so much for me, it's the least I can do for them. Defying my authority takes great courage and strength, I admire it. All I can do is watch and wish them good luck for life ahead of them. March on, my patron saints of music, march on.


End file.
